A horn honked and scared the shit out of me. River honked again as I glanced his way. I shambled over to him, a wreck inside and out. “You look like shit,” he said cheerfully. River was one of those men who never had a hair out of place. His dark hair, almost black, was combed to the side, and his suit was spotless even though he had driven here. The gold-rimmed glasses he wore glinted along with the blinding white smile he gave me.
“Yeah.”
Demchenko turned to watch the last wink of the sun on the chrome of Dad’s car as it disappeared around a bend in the road that led here, then he swung back and leveled me with a narrow-eyed glare.
“What?”
“Your father is under the impressionyoupaid me.” Tilting his head to the side, Demchenko reminded me of a dog sniffing for weaknesses.
“So?”
“He thinks you have money. Lane says otherwise. Who are you lying to? I just need to know, for my own peace of mind.” The way his jaw tightened made me think if I answered wrong, I’d be walking back to New Gothenburg.
“Dad. I always lie to my dad. I haven’t told that man more than a half-truth since I started jerking off to unapproved pay-per-view at twelve.”
River smirked. “Eh, you’re my kind of guy. I knew it. Get in.”
River unlocked the door of his black beauty and I slunk onto the leather seat of the Maserati. He puffed up at my admiring glance around the interior and started the car. “So, your father said I’d need to take you to a hotel. You should know Lane found outsomehowthat your life was going to shit, and he went over and had movers put your stuff into storage when your apartment was taken back. He’s paying for that right now.” River raised an elegant eyebrow in my direction.
I sank farther down onto the seat.
“What hotel should I drop you at?” he asked. I had about forty minutes to endure this line of questioning, and I’d seen him in court. I knew it would be brutal if he quizzed me the whole way to the city.
“Don’t know,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Well, there’s—”
“You were right. I have no money. I have no idea. I didn’t let my apartment go on purpose. I didn’t let my car go because I was bored with it. If Lane didn’t spend it, he has a lot of the money I made this year.” I rushed to say everything in one breath because I didn’t want to have to speak again.
Demchenko backed the car out of the spot and drove casually out of the parking lot. We were to the small highway that led toward New Gothenburg by the time he said, “What are you going to do?”
The sun was sinking toward the horizon in the brilliant blue sky. Butterflies danced across Queen Anne’s lace in the fields in the distance. How could such a pretty day be perfectly awful? I gathered my willpower and forced myself to look at Demchenko. He cut me glances as he drove, easily dividing his attention between me and the road. “I get another quarterly payment from my dad’s company in July. That’s about eight thousand. Until then?” I shrugged. “I have a month and a half to try to figure shit out.”
“You owe at least that much to Lane already.” He held up his hand and glanced at it, flicking his fingers like he was counting in his head. “Actually, you might owe him that and half again on me alone.”
“Fucking great.”
“What did you do before you were mayor?” he asked. He cut me a long-suffering smile that made it clear he was doing his very best to be friendly. Whether that was because of Dad or Lane or he’d just had a good day, I wasn’t sure. Why now? Why couldn’t we just fucking drive in silence, so I could marinate in my mortification of having to crawl my way back into New Gothenburg.
“I wasn’t in the best frame of mind when I rode out here on a bus. How far are we from the city?”
“Now?” He glanced at his speedometer. “Half hour, maybe. You’re lucky I’m not charging you for this, so answer me.”
“Lucky? I’m not lucky.”
“Yeah, you really fucking are.” His pleasant tone downgraded quickly, and I scrambled mentally. I didn’t actually want him upset.
“I worked at my dad’s company. Medical supplies. Easy work but boring as fuck. Vane and I crossed paths a lot in New Gothenburg because we have the same bad habits. We always had fun. We started hanging out. Sometimes I helped Vane sell real estate. I got my license a while back for something to do. Vane’s not going to want me to doanythingfor him. No one would buy so much as a Matchbox car from me right now.”
Demchenko chuckled; it wasn’t a nice laugh. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Yeah, you did a really good job of shooting yourself in the foot.”
“Try the head,” I mumbled and glanced out the window.
“Nah, I’ve seen people much more fucked than you.”
I snorted. “Okay. If you say so.”
“I do,” he snapped.
